A trickling red stream of thoughts.

Thoughts, ever so ravenous thoughts. Picking at your every part, ripping out your very soul. Digging back to the abyss, I know not where this will lead, I know not when this will end. They are merely thoughts, like drops. Makes me wonder what too many of them could do?

And when the novelty wears off, whom do you tell? How do you express the feeling of void, sadness and helplessness? Who will you turn to, to God? Pfft, never. Couldn’t count on him back then, can’t count on him now. He’s just a made up hullabaloo. Who needs that wretched, non-existing, no good, sunavabitch; not me, that’s for sure.

In my mind, in my most lonesome days, I count on me to save the day. You know why? Because, you got to do everything yourself. There’s even a saying,” God helps those who help themselves.”
Ever heard a bigger lie, this is it. No messiah, no savior, no bringer of good times. You want it? You do it, earn it, win it or steal it. But by all means do it your way. So, tomorrow if you make a fortune, that fat good for nothing doesn’t take credit in miraclework. Yep, miracles don’t happen. I wished for it once and it never occurred. It wasn’t even a selfish wish. Let me tell you once again, God does not exist. Stand up, dust yourself and go ahead and do your thing. Don’t rely on these, these pixie dust and talismans. They will only bring you suffering, misery, sorrow and raging pain. And, never, ever give your all in love because when it crumbles, you get nothing back.